Too Long We've Been Denying
by classy-pen
Summary: Ron and Hermione have been through thick and thin, but when will they finally realize they were in love?


TOO LONG WE'VE BEEN DENYING

BY CLASSY-PEN

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K Rowling does, and if you didn't know that, where have you been living? This story is ROMIONE (Ron and Hermione) and I'm not completely sure what the plot is!

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The loud knocking on Ron Weasley's door caused Ron to jump frantically from his bed, grateful to whoever woke him. He hadn't been sleeping all that well, if he were to be honest, for the past week and a half he'd be punished with nightmares. Tonight had been no different. Ron had never been the best at Potions, he thought it was because Severus Snape had always intimidated him, so he wasn't able to create a batch of Dreamless Sleep, and he didn't want to ask Hermione. She got to worried, and Ron knew exactly why he was getting nightmares. The Hogwarts Battle, it was still vivid in his mind. Sure, it had been a year ago, but it was still lit in shock. As much as the trio wanted to forget – as much as the Wizarding World wants to forget – it isn't that simple. He understood that it was really only Harry who had to face the scariest part in the whole experience, but Hermione and him had to kill a Horcruxe, and he had lost Fred – his brother. It was still hard without Fred, there wasn't much humour without Fred, sure George was still funny – but he wasn't all that sure what to do without his twin.

Ron now lived by himself in this nice little apartment, he could afford it now, since he's became an Auror. It was good money, and he enjoyed not being so poor. His career, in a way, reminded Ron of those times during Hogwarts when Harry, Hermione and himself had to solve numerous mysteries. Danger landed on their hands as much as they breathed in oxygen. Being an Auror was dangerous, but Ron liked the thrill it gave, he and his friends had faced a heap of hideous memories that would have lasted him a million years, but if he wasn't fighting evil what was he good at? Nothing that he particularly knew about.

Ron quickly opened the door to reveal a face that he didn't know he longed to see. A large grin passing by his lips, as he pulled the female into a hug. Apparently, it was unexpected; the females' arms only returned the embrace after a second of thought. Ron wasn't the one to embrace, he seemed to be more of the awkward type, but he was learning. He'd hug usually if there was a life or death situation, however unless someone was behind the female in front of him ready to kill him, there was no life or death situation.

"Hermione!"

Ron gushed, he couldn't help but be happy to see her, but now they just needed Harry and their trio would be complete. He did see Harry often though, it seemed that Ginny and him spent a lot of time together, Ron would love to know what was going on between the two before anything happened. The reason Ron hadn't spoken to Hermione (owls didn't really count in talking, he meant face to face) was because she had been to France with her family for what seemed to be a few years but in fact was only six months. Hermione was beaming up at him, her angular face looking as beautiful as ever, and as Ron stared into her deep eyes, he remembered vivid clear memories. Their fights (which were often), their angst, their ridiculous talks where Hermione wouldn't shut up, he remembered that she was always there for him when he was cranky and didn't deserve her attention (though this hardly went well).

"_Ron!_ Why didn't you tell me you were having nightmares?"

Hermione gasped, her eyes narrowing thinly. He had to be expecting that, leave it to Harry to spill the beans of his somewhat anxiety to sleep. He shook his head, and nearly laughed, though he didn't because Hermione looked too serious to joke around with at that moment.

"Oh . . . it was nothing."

Ron simply shrugged his shoulders at this, not wanting to cause Hermione any alarm on the subject. There wasn't much anyone could do for him; nightmares seem to a normal part of getting over things. Unless they were spiders, now that wouldn't work out too well. Ron could handle so many things but he would never get used to spiders: his arachnophobia would only rise, as he grew older. Ron – he had looked down as he replied to Hermione – glanced back up, once again to see the seriousness of Hermione's face. She started to talk, but he lifted two fingers to cover her mouth – a way of shutting her up.

"It's nothing, I swear. Nothing is going to stop the nightmares . . . so just leave it."

There was a sort of finality in his town, Hermione sighed but didn't say anything else. Ron knew that Hermione would mention it later on, and she would bug him until he talked about it and then she'll go get books and try to figure how to stop it. This was something that hadn't changed in Hermione, and will never change. They didn't have Dumbledore to help them with their problems as they once had; their problems had no easy way out – even if it was minor as a small occasional nightmare. Hermione took a seat on his couch, her legs crossed over each other. Ron sat next to her before remembering his manners; his mother would have killed him if she knew he hadn't offered her a cup of tea.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Ron asked, and to his confusion, Hermione laughed. Why was she laughing? Did he offer her something to eat or drink the wrong way? Hermione shook her head, declining the offer. He nearly sighed in relief, he wasn't sure if he knew how to cook all that well, his mother often sent food for his meals: an old habit of hers. He was learning, but he didn't want to kill Hermione so he was genuinely glad that she didn't want anything: best he could give her was a glass of water. Although, he did feel like some Fried Chicken if he was to be honest with himself, maybe he should owl his mother. No, that would be a bad idea, to prove himself worthless in front of Hermione. Ron sat awkwardly beside Hermione, her brown eyes staring at the photos that were placed by the bench. She smiled; the whole bench was covered with moving photos of Ron, Harry and Hermione. She clearly remembered all those memories – some good, some bad. However, everyone had those memories, not as chaotic as their ones were, but it was something.

"It was the best feeling."

Hermione sighed wistfully, after a moment of silence, just staring at the photographs. Ron looked up, confused by what she was saying.

"What was?"

"_Winning._ When Harry came and announced the death of Voldemort. _Nothing can come close to that._ To know we were all safe and that we didn't have to worry about our friends and loved ones. We were free to love and care, now that we didn't have to worry about that person dying. I never doubted that Harry could do it; we had his back and his support. He saved us all."

Ron nodded, not sure what to say to Hermione's outburst, of course he felt the same. However, with the death of Fred, it was hard to believe that the horrors are gone, he wasn't all that sure. For Hermione, she hadn't lost any biological family in the war, she could breath in freely, but with him, he had to remember about Fred everyday incase he did something wrong to offend the rest of his family.

Ron didn't notice Hermione's hand on his shoulder, or her eyes staring deeply into the side of his face, he was to frozen to remember that she was there. She clearly wanted something out of him, but what was it? Ever since that kiss in the Chamber of Secrets, when the two had gotten together, Ron had felt a bit confused when Hermione had broken up with him. Of course, he still loved her and was oblivious that she still loved him. Why did she break up with him? It wasn't as if she was going to stay away forever, at this mere thought, Ron sighed. He didn't want to ask, he wasn't going to, not in any situation. He was stubborn, and that problem was not going to budge. He just assumed she thought he wasn't right for her. Ron turned to face her again, the reality hitting him once again; he remembered she was there with him – waiting for him to be a good host.

"Hermi-"

He was cut off to her lips pressed onto his. The kiss was too glorious to ignore. He couldn't hold himself back; he returned the kiss with urgency.


End file.
